


Waylaid

by Azzandra



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A Hallmark Romance, Alternate Universe - Small Town, And they hit it off, M/M, Modern AU, in this weird little Blue Lion town, in which city-slicker Ashe meets small town hunk Dedue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23017246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzandra/pseuds/Azzandra
Summary: Ashe is stranded in a backwater town in the middle of nowhere after his car breaks down, but luckily there is a handsome local willing to help him out.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

Ashe's day had not gotten off to a great start, but he thought he'd been doing pretty well until he ended up swerving off the road and into a ditch.

His battered little sedan was distinctly not an off-road vehicle, and protested its current location by refusing to turn on again. Ashe had only enough mechanical expertise to be able to tell that something had definitely broken in the car, and now he was experiencing the burgeoning panic of being stuck in the middle of nowhere with nightfall rapidly approaching. This was an empty country road, surrounded by forest, with no other living people in sight. It was not a place where Ashe would have liked to spend the night.

Alright, no need to panic yet, it wasn't like he'd be eaten by wolves (probably... maybe? Would there even be wolves in these woods?). There was a town a couple of miles back, some quaint little settlement that Ashe had driven straight through because he was certain he could reach the city in a couple of hours anyway and check into his hotel for the night. Now, with the prospect of freezing in the woods as the only alternative, the town looked very appealing indeed.

He was just going to have to get out of the car and walk. All the way back.

He dithered in indecision for a moment, because he had a suitcase in the back of the car, and he didn't relish the prospect of dragging it along the country road after him for several miles. But leaving it in the car was even worse, since then it would be out of sight, and anyone might come along, even the kinds of people inclined to going through other people's cars and taking anything they found.

So, with a sigh, Ashe took out his suitcase and also anything valuable from the glove compartment, stuffing items in his jacket pockets. He left the usual miscellany that he had strewn in the back of the sedan: bottles of soda, gym clothes, an old cat carrier that hadn't seen any use in years, but he had still procrastinated on taking out. It seemed like the jetsam of a very small and sad life, when Ashe looked at it with a critical eye, but then, he refused to be self-conscious. If anyone else saw it, they'd have to have broken into his car first, and by that point, that made their lives far more pathetic than his.

Ashe hoisted his suitcase out of the back, carrying it over the uneven forest floor until he reached the road. Looking back, the little blue sedan was still clearly visible from the road for any passing car. He was going to have to find a tow truck in town, or at least contact the authorities about this. His first idea was to try to call someone, or look up help on the internet. Unfortunately, no matter how high he raised his phone in the air, no matter what direction he waved it or tilted it, the signal remained at zero bars.

Unenthused but having no other choice, Ashe began the walk back towards the town. His suitcase had wheels, which at least made it easier to drag along, but once in a while the bottom screeched as pebbles got stuck underneath it, and Ashe was finding the steady grind of the suitcase irritating all on its own.

He must have been walking for half an hour at least, though the distance to town was beginning to stretch infinitely the more tired Ashe got. He would have tried to hitch a ride, if any cars passed on the road, especially with night encroaching, but the only vehicle that drove by as Ashe walked was a van, and it was going the opposite direction.

Still, Ashe heard the van slow to a stop a little ways down the road, and he looked back to see that the door opened on the driver's side.

For a brief moment, Ashe had terrible visions of getting mugged and left for dead on a completely abandoned country road, but he tamped down the panic of the inveterate city-dweller as he reminded himself this wasn't some back alley and he wasn't being fenced in by an unmarked vehicle. The van was teal and had a logo painted on the side and back--the words 'Blooms of Duscur' in elegant script, a garland of flowers drawn around them. It looked like one of those florist delivery vans. Ashe was fairly certain he wasn't about to get assaulted by a florist.

The man who stepped out was taller than anyone Ashe had ever met, but he was dressed in jeans and flannel and looking more rustic than threatening. Ashe still blinked slowly in surprise.

"Do you require help?" the stranger asked, his voice deep, but surprisingly soft all the same.

"Um." Ashe wasn't sure how to reply to that. "Sort of. Yeah. I drove my car off the road."

The man blinked, then gave a reflexive look around, but Ashe's car was a bit further down the road, so he was unlikely to see it from here.

"It's fine, though!" Ashe rushed to assure. "I'm just going into town. I'm just going to find a motel or something, and call a tow truck in the morning."

"Were you injured?" the stranger asked, frowning in concern. He leaned forward a bit, looking Ashe up and down carefully. 

"Just bruised," Ashe said. 

The man still frowned, maybe still concerned, maybe not quite taking Ashe's word for it. 

"I can give you a ride into town," he offered after a beat of silence.

"Thank you, but you don't need to bother," Ashe said. "It's not in your way, you shouldn't have to turn back because of me." It felt like the polite thing to say, but now that he'd said it, he was starting to regret it. He didn't exactly want to walk back into town on foot, but he didn't want to inconvenience someone, either. 

"It is no bother," the man insisted. "Night is approaching, and you would not want to be caught in the dark."

That, Ashe had to admit, was very true. The possibility of getting eaten by wolves, no matter how fanciful, was beginning to look more and more likely the lower the sun got in the sky.

Ashe went back and forth on it in his head before finally sighing and deciding to trust in the kindness of strangers.

"Thank you!" Ashe said, picking his suitcase up and jogging over to the van. The man took it from Ashe easily, and found a place for it behind the van's seat.

"I'm Ashe, by the way," he introduced himself belatedly, as he sat in the passenger's seat of the van.

"Dedue," the stranger grunted in response, and after a moment, removed one hand from the wheel to awkwardly present it to Ashe.

Ashe smiled and gave it a firm shake. It was warm and calloused, like the kind of hands you imagined dependable people must have. It made him feel a bit more confident in the choice he'd made.

Things were going to work out eventually.

* * *

Things did not work out eventually.

The only motel in town, unassuming on the outside, but pungently pastel in its interior decor, had no vacancies.

"Sorry," the man at the front desk said, sounding genuinely sad to turn Ashe down. "It's tourist season, you know."

"I didn't think this town was a tourist destination," Ashe said numbly. It sounded ruder out loud than inside his head, but he was starting to face the prospect of sleeping at a bus stop, so he couldn't quite control his mouth in the midst of his rising panic.

"Oh, it isn't!" the man assured, and judging by his perkiness, there were no hard feelings for Ashe's remark--though it was a bit hard to tell, since he had a cap pulled so low on his head that his eyes were not visible. "We get lots of people passing through, though. The next town over has this old castle? It's on the tourist circuit, real popular with college students, apparently!"

"I see," Ashe said, then turned up the desperation just a notch. "But-- there has to be some other motel in the area? Hotel? Hostel? Short-term rental?"

"Well, there's a bed and breakfast between here and Golden Deer," referring to another town Ashe had driven straight through, the welcome sign with the cheerful cartoon stag the only memorable thing about it, "but that place gets booked at least six months in advance. Dining room's open to everyone, though. Try their breakfast menu if you're in the area."

"So they wouldn't have room?" Ashe asked as he wilted in disappointment.

"Wouldn't bet on it, no," the man shrugged apologetically. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Ashe said.

He attempted a smile to show there were no hard feelings, but as he pulled his suitcase back out to the parking lot, every rattle of the wheels scraped against Ashe's nerves and amplified his misery.

Ashe wasn't sure where he was going, save that he was walking only so he didn't stop, because tears of frustration were pricking hot at the corners of his eyes. It was fine, he'd find some place that was open all night--in a backwater town where everyone probably went to sleep at 8 PM, so that was likely--and he'd hang out until morning, when the local mechanic was open again. It was fine. It would be fi--

"Are you alright? Ashe?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin as his head swung around, and he noticed Dedue.

"Oh, I--" Ashe cleared his throat. "I thought you were headed home."

"I stopped to inform the sheriff about your car," Dedue explained. 

It was only then that Ashe noticed the van was still in the motel parking lot, where Dedue had pulled up to drop Ashe off. The sheriff had to be nearby, since in the time it took Ashe to wait at the front desk and then have the all too brief conversation, Dedue had already returned to his van and was getting ready to leave.

"Did the motel not work out?" Dedue asked, his eyebrows lowering in concern.

"They're full up," Ashe said. "It's fine, not like they can kick someone else out for me. I'll find something else. I'll... figure it out."

He managed to sound more confident than he felt, but Dedue still gave a dubious look towards the motel. Ashe hoped Dedue wasn't about to storm in there and do something reckless, or start trouble on his behalf. He didn't seem the type, though Ashe hadn't known him long enough to be able to tell one way or the other.

"I have a spare room," Dedue declared suddenly.

Ashe blinked, and in the few seconds it took him to compose an answer to that, Dedue grew flustered.

"That is to say," Dedue continued, "I have a guest room that you might use for the night. It would be more efficient than trying to find somewhere else to stay." Seeing hesitation in Ashe's face still, Dedue added, "Consider it for my peace of mind."

"Alright then," Ashe said, then more firmly, and with a smile on his face, "Thank you!"


	2. Chapter 2

The ride to Dedue's house was spent in conversation. Not that they hadn't talked while Dedue drove Ashe into town, but that had been a briefer exchange, shallow and polite in the manner of strangers who did not expect to see each other again: truisms about the weather, remarks about the town, brief asides into not very personal information.

As they rode towards Dedue's house, though, nighttime already fallen and only the van's lights drenching the road before them as they sped along, they both felt more generous to share details about their lives.

Dedue was a florist, both in the sense that he owned a flower shop, and also that he grew flowers, some for his own stocks, others to sell wholesale. He had contracts with a few nearby businesses, and supplied them some of the most high-quality stocks of Duscur blooms in this part of Fodlan. Apparently not many people knew how to grow them properly.

Ashe, for his part, admitted to his far less exciting job as a freelance writer: ghostwriting or copywriting, whatever paid the bills. He was supposed to drive to a city for a potentially lucrative ghostwriting job. He did not mention the misgivings he had about ghostwriting, the creative fatigue he was already anticipating at the idea of helping some fading opera star pen her memoirs because her hand was too shaky after a few decades of alcoholism. But Dedue seemed to catch on regardless.

"Do you never write things of your own?" Dedue asked.

"Sometimes," Ashe admitted, because he thought back on the three almost complete first drafts he had on a memory stick, all three stopped just short of the ending as he lost steam and motivation. "Nothing good enough to publish, though."

"I am certain you're selling yourself short," Dedue said. 

"You have no way of knowing that, though. Maybe I'm awful."

"Hm," was the only response Dedue had to this. He sounded doubtful.

When they reached their destination, the headlights washing over the front porch of a house, Ashe found himself not at all surprised that this was what Dedue's house looked like. It was fitting, of course: flowers festooning every surface, planted along the driveway, around the house, hanging in pots all along the porch, pouring from planters on the windowsills. Indeed, Ashe found himself charmed by the festival cheer of all this plant life, even from the little he could see in the dark.

The inside was simply furnished, but the furniture itself, despite being plain, had to be custom built, given that it seemed to be made for Dedue's proportions. The tables were as tall as counters, the seats were large and plush, with quilts and duvets made to the same generous size. Yet Ashe felt at ease in these surroundings, lulled by some sense of homeyness that made him feel welcome.

The guest room that Dedue led him to was, itself, rather simple. A stripped down bed, a nightstand, and a single wardrobe occupied the room.

As Dedue offered Ashe a fresh set of bedclothes, he also asked if Ashe was hungry.

"I can make dinner," Dedue offered.

"No! No, it's fine, you don't need to bother," Ashe assured. "I'm so tired, I think I'd just fall asleep with my face in the plate, anyway."

"I could cook something exciting enough to keep you awake," Dedue said, then inclined his head in acquiescence. "But, very well. I will leave you to your rest. The guest bathroom is through that door. I will leave a towel out for you."

He gestured to the door directly opposite the guest room's and Ashe nodded in thanks.

* * *

Ashe spent half the night anxiously trying to fall asleep. It wasn't that he was not comfortable; the bed was soft, and the sheets were the nice kind, not even a bit scratchy. But Ashe suspected he was simply too tired to fall asleep, after the events of the day, and the fact that it was so dead quiet was putting him ill at ease. He was a city boy, and more than just having gotten used to falling asleep to the sound of traffic, he found he couldn't quite sleep without it now.

Dedue's house was outside of town, not in the woods exactly, but a little off the main road and near enough to the forest. There was no neon glow of city lights crawling across the ceiling, and no shades at the window. The moon hung in the sky, bulbous and more bright than Ashe knew it could be, and so moonlight seemed to pour through the windows and straight into Ashe's retinas.

Mostly, he was worried about the car. He had an unsettling dream about finding it eaten by bears, when he did manage to fall asleep.

Still, when he woke the next morning, Ashe almost didn't want to leave the bed. For once, he didn't wake up to an alarm, or the upstairs neighbors banging doors and stomping, but to the screeching chorus of possibly several hundred birds screaming their heads off. He didn't know what all the commotion was about, but he couldn't dismiss the possibility that they were screeching to wake him up, in particular.

Despite refusing dinner the night before--though actually, probably because of it--Ashe did wake up hungrier than he'd felt in years. Maybe it was true what they said about fresh country air stimulating the appetite, though the enticing smell of scrambled eggs might have had more to do with it.

Still, Ashe rose and went to the bathroom first, and then popped open his suitcase for clothes. He pulled on the same jeans as the day before, but put on a clean hoodie.

When he strolled into Dedue's kitchen, two plates had already been set out: scrambled eggs, as Ashe had smelled. Also freshly sliced tomatoes, toast, a kettle of tea steaming hot.

"I have milk, if you would prefer," Dedue offered, hefting an actual carafe instead of one the cartons that Ashe would get from the grocery store. If Ashe had to guess, that milk had probably taken a much shorter journey between cow and refrigerator than any grocery store brand.

"Tea is fine, thank you," Ashe said, and sat down. The chair was a bit higher than he was used to, but not so much that he couldn't use it comfortably.

They both sat down, and the first few minutes were spent in utter silence as they tucked in, too busy with eating to make conversation. It wasn't until Ashe had devoured through most of the eggs that he noticed Dedue's amused expression.

"S'good," Ashe said a bit defensively.

Dedue inclined his head.

"I am glad you're enjoying it," he said. "But if you eat too quickly, you will get hiccups."

Ashe took the cue and slowed down. He tried the tea, finding it just as delicious as the food. Dedue managed to finish his eggs first by a narrow margin, but after he put his plate in the sink, he excused himself.

"I will be back in a minute," he promised. "I need to check on a few things in the back."

Ashe hummed in acknowledgment, and as soon as Dedue was gone, he scarfed down the last of his eggs and the few slices of tomatoes that were left. He had in mind to wash all the dishes before Dedue returned, and circumvent entirely the tedious dance of politeness that they would doubtless have to engage in, as Dedue insisted Ashe didn't have to do the task, and Ashe insisted he did. Ashe squirted lemon-scented dish soap onto a sponge, and then set to scrubbing the kitchenware.

He'd washed all the dishes and moved on to the teacups next when the knock on the door came.

Ashe slowed down, listening for Dedue's footsteps, but it didn't seem like Dedue was going to answer. Wherever he was, he mustn't have heard the knock; and no wonder, because it had been polite, almost restrained. No chance the sound had carried all that far, and Ashe had only heard it because the entrance hallway led directly into the kitchen.

By the time Ashe set the teacups on the drying rack, the knock came again. Ashe dried his hands and inched over to the entrance, keeping his steps light.

He couldn't help the prickle of curiosity. There was a narrow window alongside the door, so Ashe couldn't resist a peek through the curtains. He was startled to have to look farther upwards than he expected, to a man with shaggy blond hair and arms as thick as logs. Ashe was just wondering what the hell they fed kids around these parts that everyone seemed to grow so large, when the man at the door turned his head to reveal an eyepatch on his right eye.

Ashe flinched and stepped back from the window. 

Dedue, luckily, must have heard the knock, because he came striding down the hall just then, but paused as he saw Ashe's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"There's a man at the door," Ashe replied, trying not to sound alarmed, but keeping his voice low all the same.

Dedue did not seem surprised to hear it, however, and did not hesitate as he opened the door.

"Hello, Dimitri," he greeted with warmth in his voice.

"Dedue! Good morning, I trust you are well?" the visitor asked in return.

"As well as ever," Dedue said, inclining his head.

Then Dimitri's one good eye was turned on Ashe.

"And you must be our unintended guest," Dimitri said. His smile was bright and friendly, and Ashe suddenly felt very guilty for how startled he'd been at his appearance.

"Um, yes, hello! I'm Ashe!" He stuck out his hand a bit too eagerly, but before he had time to blush, Dimitri had already grasped it and given a hearty shake.

They convened to the kitchen after that. Dedue's face showed the slightest flicker of surprise at the table being clear, before his attention shifted to the drying rack. He offered tea to both of them, which Dimitri accepted, although Ashe did not want another cup. The way Dimitri sat at the table indicated some long-standing familiarity between the two men. If the furniture was proportioned slightly larger than average to fit Dedue, it also suited Dimitri--though the tea cup was still average sized, and thus his hand encompassed it easily.

"I've come because I heard about the accident from Felix," Dimitri explained, "and he mentioned seeing Dedue give a ride to a stranger, so I had assumed--"

"Does everyone in town know about the accident?" Ashe asked.

"Oh! No, I shouldn't think so," Dimitri scratched his cheek thoughtfully. He frowned into his cup as he thought, probably going through his mental roster of town residence to figure out how far the news might have spread. 

"Felix is the sheriff," Dedue clarified. "He knows because I told him. He may have informed Ingrid as well, since she operates a tow truck."

"Though, if they told Sylvain about it..." Dimitri trailed off, his face twisting to dismay. "No, no, it's not even noon yet, I'm certain he wouldn't have had time to spread it around." He shook his head, dismissing whatever thought had crossed his mind, and then turned to Ashe again. "I hope that, despite the unfortunate circumstances, you enjoy your stay in our town. If you have any injury, you can visit the clinic and Dr. Martriz will take very good care of you. At any rate, you should at least have yourself checked over."

Ashe thanked Dimitri, insisted he was fine, but both Dimitri and Dedue turned the full force of their small town hospitality on him and persuaded him to drop in at the clinic anyway. By the end of the conversation, Ashe found himself gently hedged into agreeing to have himself checked out.

"You should probably talk to Felix as well," Dimitri advised. "You have done nothing wrong, but Felix is very thorough in his record-keeping. He will like to have your statement on this incident."

"Sure," Ashe agreed, if only so he could meet this Felix. For the most part, the word 'sheriff' still conjured cowboy movies to his mind; he'd never actually met anyone who was the real thing.

Dimitri's visit turned out to be fairly brief, and he left as soon as he downed the last dregs of his tea.

"It's nice of your friend to check up on me," Ashe remarked afterwards.

"He is checking up on you because he is the mayor of Blue Lion," Dedue said.

Ashe turned bodily towards Dedue just to demonstrate how slack-jawed this piece of information left him.

"I thought he was some kind of lumberjack!" Ashe blurted out.

"He is a lumberjack as well," Dedue replied. "That is his day job."

He took advantage of Ashe's shock to pick up the teacups and wash them again.


End file.
